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Note to self
Sep. 30th, 2010 10:45 pmChris and I were having a random discussion about the fact that even though I want to, I can't get a tattoo. My skin is too sensitive, and I'd probably just end up an infected, scarred up mess. Chris had mentioned that he didn't think that I would be able to stand it anyway, because he feels my pain threshold is low.
"I thought about that," I said. "Whatever I got for my first one, I would have wanted to be smaller than the bass clef on your arm?" The question mark is on purpose -- I ended that sentence with a questioning tone of voice and look.
"Why are you making that a question?" Chris asked. "Are you asking if you're right about which clef is on my arm?" I nodded. "You're wrong." And then he died laughing.
"OK, OK! It's a treble clef!" I said.
"I would have also accepted G clef, or 'music thing'," he said.
Note to self: when married to a former music major, do not confuse your treble clefs and bass clefs. He will laugh (hard) at your fail.
LMAO
"I thought about that," I said. "Whatever I got for my first one, I would have wanted to be smaller than the bass clef on your arm?" The question mark is on purpose -- I ended that sentence with a questioning tone of voice and look.
"Why are you making that a question?" Chris asked. "Are you asking if you're right about which clef is on my arm?" I nodded. "You're wrong." And then he died laughing.
"OK, OK! It's a treble clef!" I said.
"I would have also accepted G clef, or 'music thing'," he said.
Note to self: when married to a former music major, do not confuse your treble clefs and bass clefs. He will laugh (hard) at your fail.
LMAO
